Saturday, 21 March 2015

The Outer Rim...

A
glance at the tide table shows big tides predicted. The online weather station
shows the pressure dropping. Slowly but surely the graph is trending downwards,
soon we should be below 1000 millibars of atmospheric pressure. The wind is rising
too and swinging from a north to a westerly direction. All the signs are there
for a flood.

This
will not be a flood on a biblical scale, not one you would need to flee from,
in fact many people will be flocking to the muddy banks of the Dee to witness
it.

The
huge amount of water being dragged towards the land will cover the usually
peaceful marshes and force thousands of birds from the mudflats to seek refuge
anywhere not flooded by these monster tides. The usually secretive Short-eared
Owls and Hen Harriers will be flushed from the cover of swampy grasses and,
hopefully, be easy to see and - even more hopefully - photograph.

I
have a few days off work that coincide with these large tides (that is not a
happy coincidence, it was carefully planned in advance) and I plan on getting
out there to catch the great flood.

My
usual place on Thurstaston Shore will be no good for this; the rushing tide
will swiftly engulf it and, in the blink of an eye, sweep away any birds feeding
there. To witness the tidal spectacle at its peak I’m going to have to go
off-Patch again (see my previous post about venturing away from my usual
haunts).

I’m
going to head south. South of Riverbank Road to the Outer Rim of the Patch. There
are several possible watch points and I have to decide where exactly to go,
this means I will have to guess how far the tide will come in – not an exact
science. The last thing I want to do is pitch up somewhere that doesn’t flood.
Also I want to steer clear of Parkgate, that is going to be waaaaaaay too busy
and I like to avoid the crowds. I much prefer it when birds outnumber people.

I
figure I will start at Cottage Lane as, given the predicted tide height, that
is almost 100% certain to flood. Then if it looks like being a mammoth tide I
will leapfrog Parkgate to the Harp Inn at Neston. At least if it doesn’t flood
here I can have a pint.

Rather
pleased with my cunning plan I set off with charged batteries and empty memory
cards (and snacks).

Cottage
Lane is disagreeably busy but I see a few familiar friendly faces for a
chinwag.

The
tide teases us, looking like it isn’t going to make many in-roads to the marsh.
People are starting to glance at watches, refer to tide tables and say “Hmmm,
bit late now, doesn’t look like its going to make it…”

But
the tide is just building the momentum in needs to breech the outer rim of the
marsh where it ends and the mudflats begin.

It
rushes in all at once.

(I
like the word pandemonium and I have every right to use it here.)

Pandemonium
ensues.

Everything
is moving in all directions.

Oystercatchers
leave in their thousands, up and away from the leading edge of the tide. The
Blackwits go high, some splitting from the main flock and heading inland, the
rest flying down the estuary towards Burton. Redshanks are moving in
innumerable small flocks, most in the same direction as the Oycs but some are
heading back towards roosts on the north Wirral coast. The Knot have
disappeared altogether. Shelduck and Pintail drift in on the current, Teal anxiously
zoom past in wader-like flocks, the smallest duck making the biggest fuss.

Meadow
Pipits, Skylarks, Linnets and Reed Buntings congregate on mats of seeds that
the tide is collecting and transporting towards the shore. They fly off in all
directions, some over our heads to the golf course behind us. A nervous Water
Rail calls from the reeds. Someone has spotted a Short-eared Owl and calls out
directions to find it in the chaos. The bird is being mobbed by crows and gulls
while it escapes as the water floods its roost site.

The
crows and gulls quickly turn their attention to the hundreds of small mammals
that are literally swimming for their lives away from the flooding marsh to the
sanctuary of the old sea wall and the golf course.

Many
don’t make it, scooped up as lunch by the swooping corvids and gulls. The Owls
aren’t close enough for a decent set of photographs and it is a little too
hectic here so I initiate the second phase of my Outer Rim plan.

Up
at the Harp the marsh is starting to flood nicely and it is much quieter, more
relaxed. Looking down towards Burton there is a Great White Egret and further
out a Peregrine is harassing some already harassed waders. The Blackwits I saw
flying over Cottage Lane a few minutes earlier are attempting to roost on an
island of vegetation. A little flotilla of Teal are swimming with the tide in
front of them – looking a lot more relaxed than their counterparts from Cottage
Lane. The same mix of small birds is feeding on the washed up seed mats now
pushed up close to the old quay.

Not
so close are the owls. We get good views but there is close and then there is
getting pictures close. These birds stay just out of range so I aim the camera
at the rather gruesome goings on closer to shore. Having made the effort to
visit the Outer Rim I am not keen on going home picture-less.

A
good number of voles, rats, mice and shrews are being mercilessly picked off by
gulls as they race for the shore. Every now and then you’d spot one swimming
like mad to get to safety, the people on the shore willing them to make it to
shelter unseen by the birds, only to gasp with dismay as a bird swoops in to
pluck it from the water.

Inevitably,
as the tide starts to recede the action starts to slow down. The birds settle
to roost and the mammals have either made it to shore or perished on the way.
Seeing as I am outside the pub it seems silly not to initiate phase three of
the Outer Rim plan. I call in for a pint.

The
rest of the afternoon is spent here…

Sat
outside the pub with my pint glass and the tide slowly draining away, calm
returns to the estuary. I notice some Stonechats mooching along the fence line
separating the footpath from the marsh. They seem fairly tame too. The light in
the morning would be perfect for…